Mystery: The Frank & Ernest Box Set - Mystery and Suspense Novels (The Frank & Ernest Files, Mystery, Thriller, Suspense Book 6)
Page 25
“Morning, there, Banker’s Hours,” he greeted Ernie.
“One of the perks of not being a flatfoot anymore,” Ernie responded.
“Detective Mueller would like our assistance once again,” Kashuba explained.
“You sure?” Ernie asked. “Last time out we were no help at all.”
“Well, that’s fair,” the boss pointed out. “To this point, we’ve gotten no money at all.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you get paid,” Frank assured them.
“Is this still about Luther’s kid?” Ernie wondered.
“Yeah, we’ve really hit a brick wall. Think you can help us?”
“Maybe, maybe not, but I think we oughta give it a hard try. That OK with you, Boss?”
“Sure, why not? We got nothing better to do and all day to do it in.”
“Look, I’ll try to get you guys some serious money. I’d pay you myself if I could.”
“You know something? Screw the money,” Kashuba said. “Well, I mean put us in for as much as you can and all that, but I want to help you guys crack this case because you’re a couple of stand-up cops. You deserve to win this one.”
“Once again, I can’t guarantee anything, but I got a couple things I’m still…processing,” Ernie told them. “Give me a couple days to sort all the shit out and maybe I might have something for you.”
Chapter 15
“Errrrrrnie, what’s the matter with you?” Evelyn whined, as she stood behind him, clad only in a negligee and stroking his cheek while he sat in his favorite chair. “I’m practically giving it away. In fact, I am giving it away,” she reminded him as she discarded even the negligee and paraded in front of him.”
“You look lovely as ever, Dearest,” Ernie signed, “but I got a lot on my mind right now.”
“Maybe I should check back into the Graybar Hotel for another couple of years. I bet that’ll make you want it bad.”
“Oh Love of my Life, I say this with only the kindest of intentions,” Ernie responded. “No rompere i coglioni.”
“Oh, please! How would you like it if I told you off in Hebrew?”
“I’m sure I wouldn’t understand a word, but you know what I just said, right?”
“Fine!” she snapped. “I’ll just go out shopping…for cucumbers!”
Once he had some time to himself, Ernie began trying to put the pieces together. Okay, let’s start with our client. He spent almost all of his time in Philadelphia, and only about a week in Washington, So, the killer going after him in Washington might have something to do with why he was there, which, in turn, led to that Fair Welfare business, which, in turn, led to Simmons’ boss: Sean Higgins. Clearly, he was the one with the most to lose if Simmons testified truthfully. Was there anybody else connected with that business who would have a motive? As he thought more about the scheme, he remembered what Lucinda Porch had told him about her grandson Leon. He was the one who had blown the lid off. Say, Ernie thought, maybe his murder had to do with that and not some drug dealers. He shook his head sadly as he remembered how badly butchered the boy’s corpse had been. The brutality of it reminded him of Rasta Pete’s grisly murder, a few years back. Wait a minute, that had also been with a big blade, and Sean Higgins was the guy who had done the deed. Higgins may have made an attempt on Simmons to silence him, but, with the Porch kid, it may have been flat-out revenge. Ernie believed the guy was fully capable of both motivations.
Just then, the phone rang. When Ernie answered it, his boss was on the other end.
“Just checking in,” Kashuba said. “We gettin’ anywhere?”
“No we are not,” Ernie replied, “we’re there already. Where and how soon can we meet?”
The next day, Louis Simmons was back at Kashuba’s agency, getting the low-down on his former boss.
“So, you’re tellin’ me he’s the one took out Otis?” Simmons asked them. “You sure about that?”
“Sure as we can be,” Ernie answered him.
“Not only that,” Kashuba added in his naturally booming voice, “We’re about as sure he’s the guy that killed Leon Porch kid.”
“No shit!” Simmons responded. “You know, I always respected that little dude, even if his politics were crazy. Now tell me, how are we gonna move against Higgins?”
“I’m afraid that answer’s not so easy,” Kashuba admitted. “The guy’s done a super good job of covering his tracks, like you might expect.”
“Huh! Suppose I take a trip up to Bismarck and do to him what he did to Otis,” Simmons suggested.
“Mr. Simmons,” Kashuba answered, getting as formal as he could, “I need to counsel you that murder in any form except self-defense is entirely frowned upon by the law.”
At that point, Ernie motioned for Simmons to lean in for a very quiet conversation.
“Look, Louis, you go after the guy now, you’re putting your neck in a noose. Be patient, I mean real patient, and two things will likely happen. One is that we or the cops may find something to nail the guy with; the other is, with the passage of time, you will get smaller and smaller in the eyes of the law as a potential suspect. You know what they say about revenge being served cold, right? Tell me this, Louis, if the cops managed to nail Higgins for Leon Porch, but couldn’t tie him to your brother, would you be happy with him doing time for an unrelated reason?”
“Long as it was a lot of time.”
Ernie had been right to hold his part of the conversation sotto voce. The receptionist seemed like a close-mouthed kind of lady, but it was best that no one else heard what he said to Louis Simmons. In any case, it didn’t matter. Marguerite Wallace had already caught all she needed to hear.
“Hello, Cinda, this is Daisy,” she began the call to her sister.
Bismarck, North Dakota was a far cry from Plymouth Meeting, Pennsylvania and an even farther cry from Choral Gables, but, there was nothing to be done, Sean realized. He was lucky to still have a job.
Most nights, he would visit the Dew Drop Inn, which, if it did not have a particularly original name, had the distinct advantage of a gorgeous Vietnamese cocktail waitress.
“Where’s Suzy-Q?” Sean snapped at the old lady who was taking his order.
“Sorry, Romeo, your lady-love is sick tonight. You gonna order somethin’ or not?”
“Fine, get me a beer and a bump with a pulled-pork and slaw sandwich to wash it down.”
“Sure, Hon, comin’ right up.”
Later that night, as Sean sat on the edge of his bed, the room started spinning. Christ, he hadn’t had that much to drink, had he? That was the last thought of Sean Higgins’ stay on this planet. As he gave up the ghost, Lucinda Porch was boarding a bus that would take her back to the Pine Barrens, where nobody would admit she had ever been gone.
Epilogue
In the following year, a number of interesting things happened, most of which did not involve murder, rape or theft.
Arlene Ellsworth met a middle-aged, still-handsome widower at church and began dating him. They would be married in October. Between her one and Vince Nucci’s two, she suddenly found herself the mother of three, putting her one up on Sadie. That was fine with Sadie. She and Frank were delighted with the two they had.
Greg Martin found himself in hot pursuit of a car thief when he got interrupted by the pole of a streetlight in his efforts to make a too-fast right turn. He survived the accident, but ended up with a leg that would never heal properly. Made too slow to be a cop, he went out on a disability pension and joined a Private Eye firm where he had been known to fill in when they were stacked up. He was actually the third detective Steve Kashuba had hired. His agency was doing a lot better these days.
Evelyn sat down one night and did some math. In the end, she realized she did not need the ill-gotten half a million dollars she got from her forgery, and so she donated it to the International Red Cross. As if to reward her for her virtue, she soon found herself expecting. It would have been nice to chalk it up to Karma
, but it probably had more to do with Ernie’s recent operation to have a varicose vein removed from his testicle sac. The vein had been the culprit that had been overheating his sperm cells.
The crackerjack team of Frank Mueller and Biggie Hilton got broken up, but for the best of reasons. Both had been promoted to lieutenant. While Biggie stayed in Strawberry Mansion, where the street thugs knew him well and feared him greatly, Frank got transferred back to Fishtown, where he would serve as Captain Korpal’s assistant. Both Korpal and Martha Stewart—still running her canteen—were delighted to see him return.
Before Biggie got kicked upstairs, he had one last taste of life on the street. He happened upon Scipio Kelly, hopped up on PCP, stabbing the life out of a young man who had incurred his ire. After the thug ignored the cop’s command to freeze, Biggie shot him down like a dog. Only later did the irony occur to the new lieutenant that he had unwittingly obtained vengeance for a man he despised.
As for Ernie Campanella and Steve Kashuba, they still continued teaching hard lessons on how to play the game of pinochle, every other week.
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About the Author
David Archer was born and raised in Bakersfield, California. He is a fiction author and novelist, writing in the mysteries and thrillers genre. His approach to writing is to hit deep, keep you entertained, and leave you wanting MORE with every turn of the page. He writes mysteries, thrillers, and suspense novels, all of which are primed to get your heart pumping.